


Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, rated M

by Carice



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fan fiction inspired, Literally found it on my desktop, Sherlolly - Freeform, just a bit of fluff, thought I might as well post it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26620672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carice/pseuds/Carice
Summary: I literally found this on my desktop! I think it was written in response to some prompt or other on Tumblr? But as usual I didn't get it done in time. It's just a silly little thing. I hope you enjoy it.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 13
Kudos: 57





	Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, rated M

Rosie's first birthday had gone in a blur. Mrs Hudson offered to have an overtired and grizzling Rosie to sleep downstairs while the clear up started. The atmosphere in Baker Street was jolly - everyone happy to be together and celebrating, after the traumatic events of Mary's death and Sherrinford a few months ago. John and Molly were clearing up toys, laughing about something Rosie had done. Sherlock, sitting with legs elegantly crossed on his chair, smiled along with them, though he didn't look up from his phone. John looked between them, with mixed feelings; it was good that Sherlock had managed to fix things with Molly, they were clearly comfortable with each other, but he couldn't help feeling a little sad that somehow they'd hit the re-set button, not moved forward from friendship. But he'd learned better than to raise it with Sherlock, who was obviously still determined against 'romantic entanglement'.

Somehow the decision was taken that they needed to toast Rosie's birthday, so Lestrade, Anderson and Sally set off determinedly for the nearest off-licence. They returned with a rather excessive amount of booze, but the mood was light and the drinks went down quickly. Even Sherlock had more than one glass of wine. At some point the group were gathered round John's laptop on the table, laughing at comments on his blog - Sherlock hadn't been able to resist, clearly.

"Oh god, I know what you should look up!" Sally suddenly said, loudly. She beckoned Molly over, theatrically. "Molls, come 'ere, you've GOT to see this".

She leaned over John, typing a new web address in. Lestrade, Anderson, and Molly joined them - only Sherlock ignored them, walking round picking out a vague but pretty tune on the violin.

"AO3?" Lestrade slurred a bit, squinting at the screen. "Whass that when iss at 'ome?"

"Hang on boss - here we go - look!" Sally had made a few clicks. Everyone leaned in. Molly read out "Real person fiction...Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper"....she froze in place, blinking as she read the screen. The others leaned in further, and Sally scrolled as they read. There were woops and guffaws and hands over mouths. Molly couldn't believe what she was reading - someone (who obviously knew them both to at least some degree) had written the most risqué imagining of she and Sherlock in bed together. Despite herself, despite the rowdy group of police officers (and one giggling GP) she bit her lip at some of the descriptions - god, it was no holds barred, better written than much of the erotic fiction she'd read, and the thought of Sherlock...Sherlock doing those things to her; she blushed hot red. Molly straightened up. Suddenly she didn't feel tipsy any more. She felt embarrassed and upset. Upset that it had only taken this little thing, just a story, to stir all those feelings she'd supressed both before and after Sherrinford. She felt closer to Sherlock than ever now, they'd made peace; but it would never be enough for her, and sometimes it hurt too much to pretend. She backed away from the desk, blinking away tears. John and Sherlock both noticed at once.

"I'll just - I'll go to check that Rosie's ok" Molly choked out, and hurried to get out of the door and down the stairs.

Sherlock had stopped playing, lowering his bow and the instrument, noting her every move. His eyes narrowed as he looked toward the group and the screen.

"I tuned you all out. Who has upset Molly?" He demanded, leaning forward to skim read the story drawing everyone's attention.

After a few minutes, and some more laughing and guffawing and arm punches from the Scotland Yard contingent, he straightened up, eyes straight ahead, face like thunder. He laid down his bow and violin on his chair and wordlessly left the room. John watched him go downstairs.

The gang had moved on to a story apparently involving Mycroft and Greg, and there was much hilarity and wolf-whistling. John crept out of the room, standing quietly in the hallway. He had no wish to interfere, but he sensed a very delicate moment between his friends, and he was concerned.

He could see that Sherlock had gone downstairs and was sat on the bottom step, elbows on knees, head down, as if he was thinking very hard. After just half a minute, he heard what was obviously Molly coming out of Mrs Hudson's flat. Sherlock stood, and put his arm out as she tried to pass him, catching her wrist in his hand.

"Molly, don't go". His voice was so quiet, gentler than John had ever heard. Molly didn't reply. The two figures stood. Sherlock hadn't let go of her wrist.

"It's just too hard, sometimes, Sherlock, you know?" Molly said, her voice quiet but strong. "Don't worry. We're good. Always. I just wasn't prepared to read - I hadn't expected -" she shrugged.

Sherlock made no move to leave. "I don't like to see you upset". His voice was practically a rumble, now. John almost rolled his eyes. Why the bloody hell were these two not together? Molly took a deep breath. Smiled. "S'ok, Sherlock, honestly. It was quite raunchy, wasn't it? Someone we know has got quite the imagination and I'd say a fair bit of experience in the bedroom!" She said, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

John saw Sherlock move closer to her. Sherlock raised Molly's hand to his lips and kissed it. John's eyes widened.

"Experience?" Sherlock said. "If you think that described what it would be like between us, then you're very wrong".

Molly stared up at him. "You've - you've thought about what it would be like if we...?"

Sherlock leaned down, and kissed her cheek, lingering there, speaking so close to her ear that John could barely hear. "I've thought about it many times, Molly. But I always held back, knowing the sort of man I am and the sort of life I lead. It wouldn't be good for you".

"I'm a big girl, Sherlock. I ought to be able to make my choices, even if they're not good for me, don't you think?"

There was silence for a moment, and John found himself holding his breath at what was surely the key moment of all moments for these two.

"Tell me what you thought about....us....that story".... Molly prompted gently, her voice just a whisper.

"I thought" Sherlock's voice was a croak. He cleared his throat. "I thought _that_ Sherlock was an idiot.... _that_ Sherlock didn't even make sure that Molly took her pleasure more than once before he sought his own".....he leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth, and Molly's eyes stayed closed as his mouth hovered near her cheek. She appeared to have stopped breathing. " _That_ Sherlock didn't even use his tongue to taste her, to pleasure her".....he kissed her lips, and Molly was now breathing hard as he spoke again, her eyes wide with shock "He didn't know how to keep her at the brink of ecstasy until it almost became unbearable -" and then Molly's arms were snaked round Sherlock's neck and the two were kissing passionately and the only noises in the hallway were of loud breathing and muttered curses when they broke for air.

John moved silently back into the living room, smiling broadly. Smooth git, he thought. Finally.


End file.
